A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

King of the Dot

"Rum Nitty vs. Charron"

[Round 1: Charron]
It's Charron vs. Cornell
You 'bout to get owned, I been known
On TV but this home
You think I'd turn my back on battle rap? I ain't that b*tch Rone
Flip mo'
b*tch don't
Sleep on me because of my skin tone
Rum got the kid f*cked up; fetal alcohol syndrome
They said it's Real Deal for the chain, I'm raisin' my voice
I'm the one makin' y'all noise
Trevor don't want this smoke with Corey, it ain't the Trailer Park Boys
You'se a fake Crip, and you and I different
I know why he didn't throw up that C for (C-4), this a suicide mission
I ain't a new bull, resume long as Manute Bol
I'll break down this Crip 'til he see (C) R.I.P. on his tombstone
Real Deal, Fresco, who's home?
I'll have Danny Myers on ice, I'm too cold!
What up Boss Town?
Been in this league since 17, won't stop now
I'm Bigg K on Twitter, all I do is hold the block down
I got a playbook for all you b*tches, I'm Barney Stinson
They'll see (C) how I took K out, I started Crippin'
And now it's "bye Pass" (bypass); heart condition
They gave me an award (A. Ward), that was a stupid death; Darwinism
He's hardly winnin'
Bet against Charron then I'm chargin' a bag
It ain't a car collision
When it cost you AngryFans an arm and a leg
Yo 'Ganik, I spent 200K for Oxxxy, this a body round 1
You're a sh*tty bartender, I asked for a white Russian and got a watered down Rum
Crew hoppin', that's what he is about
You rep Homi, 4th Quarter, LSC? You need a key for some help
I'm Old School like Will Farrell, I'm on the street by myself
Ain't no helpin' ya, dead bodies, selfin' ya
The way I'm doin' Rum? HAM, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia
That racist angle, cut it out right now
Don't say this for El Paso or justice for Mike Brown
If I see a racist pig, I'll get mine
Instead of a black kid, I hope it's a crooked cop next time
The motto has always been "f*ck 12"; Tech 9
Callin' me racist isn't a great style
I still think Lotto beat Rabbit in 8 Mile
Against A. Ward it was Wu-Tang; Killah Priest
Now it's Yung Joc; Nitti (Nitty) beats
Was supposed to be Bachir but I'm a different beast
Yo Cambridge, you know you're the man when Dizaster ducks you in the Middle East
I hope your son throws up a "B" on his next exam
Pay my shooters an extra grand
You Rum in the Middle East, that only gets you Banned
It ain't home sweet home when this Desert land
Take the C out when I put the K to [?]; metal band
They say he's the "Patriot of gun bars" this for the Brady fans
Soon as I Drew, he bled so (Bledsoe) much they replaced the man
I call this "Belichick", with the 12 I had a crazy plan
But this 12's been ringin' so much I just start changin' hands
They say you're the "MJ of gun bars" to me that's not important
They said the same with K, peep my Roc performance
This a mirror match, you wear fake J's and I knock of Jordans
The URL Killer, they forgot the motto
No one wants to see this white boy black; Tom MacDonald
I do the job, you don't keep it real yourself
You decide, suicide, just look at me when you kill yourself

[Round 1: Rum Nitty]
I'm 'bout to pull two thumpers out and slap you
All you hear is the beats up top, don't be f*ckin' up the battle
After this, you're 'bout to get everything outta the tool
I'll trail you, to your car and pull your card

What is you doin'?

Followin' suit
Aye we got Rum Nitty, "Mr. .50 Blam"...lift the can'...trigger hands
Versus, current event, rebuttal, Hitler hands
Aye movie bars is somethin' you gotta deal wit'
At least a couple of 'em, y'all knew what it was
Billy Pistolz? Man how you get bodied in Bodied?; Buddy Love
I ain't finna take ya light world, I'm a motherf*ckin' monster, these n*ggas type scary
Cause I'm beastin' (bee sting) on everything; Macaulay Culkin in My Girl
Every f*cking Bar
I don't think ya dawg shootin'
But if you are shootin', I'll pull up and air back out the window; Swamp cooler
I won't even let the squad do it, I got two K's (2K), but I ain't tryin' to pass the sticks, I'ma sore loser
Your boy's stupid, clueless, use ya mind
You starin' at a GOAT; George Clooney
Aye, I know you not active really, so I'm not listenin' to what this faggot tell me
I can't hear you, I'm death to the fake; Machiavelli
I'll f*ck around and slap Charron
Clap Charron
Sniper rifle posted, scopin'
I'll see where you at Charron
I'm watchin' over you with super vision (supervision); this sh*t a chaperone
This n*gga look up to Pat Stay, but he don't really try to
He's in denial
It makes sense, that punk known for rock, of course he's Billy Idol
Lift the rifle
Spot you, [?]
Loud shot, f*cked up my hearing; different trial
I'm skippin' trial, aye, if a n*gga try you, dawg get aired
Pull up, in the midnight ridin', let off the steel
Somethin' from the Taurus, tore through his House; Paul Revere
This my motherf*ckin' spot for real
You either move on or get moved out
You Tommy Pickles lookin' in the face ass
Don't make me pull up with the tool out
Palm the grip, .38, infrared on the tip
Now there is a light that shines on it special for you, use your Common sense
You're gonna die fam'
You finna die fam'
I'll send you to Jesus, become an angel, I made you wing it; improvised plan
Lift up my cans
Two Smith's, I'll shoot 'em at Will; Gemini Man
Don't play wit' me
They like, "Nitty, you 'bout to go put on a show for them white folks?"
I Will, and Grace-fully
Blade wit' me, get stuck by ya side; faithfully
Then get it all in ya head since you make believe
Smokin' sh*t what I be on, to be Frank, Nitty ran with Al Capone (Kapone)
b*tch, you can't keep it real yourself
(Suicide or I'll do the job, you decide, kill yourself!)

[Round 2: Charron]
Aye, aye, aye, he says all I do is film references, I guess you want some more movies
Always starin' at a GOAT, you think he's George Clooney
Well guess who killed him? Yours truly
See people, they don't really wanna get that 'til I put it to his melon
You got your hands up like you don't know, I ain't gonna tell on ya
Tommy Pickles, one punch, swellin' ya
I'm lookin' down on this little kid; Angelica
They say he's the GOAT puncher, he had one that really move me
Against Tax you said, "Your sister's the biggest groupie
She gave the whole town dome like, The Simpson's Movie
That bar flames
But how you gon' steal a line I used against Arcane?
Both bars bit and I give a f*ck when you start Crippin'
Out of principle I'll give this C more (Seymour) problems than Bart Simpson
Your girl lets every mister (Mr.) Plow, it's a nice old job
She rakes in more with her head than Sideshow Bob
That was my line, why'd you take it though?
Stole my idea, now I'm lightin' Rum up, that's a flamin' bowl
Shuttin' Rum down like Rex Banner
The right? Hit like a sledge hammer
Well I got somethin' for every left hander like Ned Flanders
If we heat grippin' I'll deep ditch him
I'm stupid with the gun; Chief Wiggum
When this auto (Otto) bust (bus) all your kids go
Let a clip blow
I just registered the Maggie, Simpsons intro
See I didn't write a segue to get into these gun bars sooo it's Pistolz time
Bigga .9
You Crippin'? Now your team is dead
Put a bullet in Geechi's head
It's like I'm guessin' in multiple choice, I'm just fillin' up C's with lead
Crazy, don't know what to think
You start shoot-
Look at me when I'm killing you!
Look at me when I'm killing you!

[Rum Nitty]
You're losing

Crazy, don't know what to think, start shootin', I won't even blink
I'll pull out the Sig' (cig') after Rum, I only smoke when I drink
Sorry Player, we'll get to those fake Jordans later
The first couple rounds, Corey's favor
White boy in Boston, 2-0; Gordon Hayward
And don't rebuttal it by dunkin' neither
Your girl knew I'm from Toronto, I just f*ck and leave her
Soon as I shoot my shot, she sat on it...I'm Kawhi with that buzzer beater
Hoop season, casket, that's what you leave in
Ya crew leakin', I'm the opposite of my mom's food, I'm too seasoned
I battled Twork on five days didn't miss a step, I had flips on deck
I'm like the URL, I'm even better without Prep
Is we Crippin' yet? Your sister blue (blew), didn't hit it yet
Red Stripe bottle, just got a little neck
Don't interject, I never stall
Geechi? Don't get involved
I got bodies inside of bodies; Russian nesting doll
It's death for y'all
They wanna do this, but watch how I'm checkin' y'all
I'm the most deadly think mixed with SMACK since Fentanyl
Eff your whole style, the SMACK Killer, his death was so vile
You gettin' drug up and down Mass Ave, this the Methadone Mile
I'm always there to ride ain't scared of crime, I never snitch, I'm prepared for time
This white boy wouldn't sing if they put on 'Sweet Caroline'
Rum pourin' on the pavement, R.I.P
They start to scream and put this pus*y on a shirt; Carter Deems
With the hardest team, I got a family full of animals; Arthur Reed
Scratch that, all you see is the fist; Arthur meme
Do you want a blade or an arm from me?
It's Rum shot, Rum shot, this Bacardi's free
Or put a knife to son and start spikin' Rum like Cardi B
Whether it's the Chef or Chilla, this is up my lane
Drake curse, when I'm in the picture it switches up the game
I'll flip another house, you can flip another name
The real Gun Bar King; Billy Pistolz for the chain

[Round 2: Rum Nitty]
You know we slide, lookin' fo' these guys
How many? Four or five
Get in, we goin' on a ride
Pull up, put that b*tch in park
We they see us, you better hope Corey (Korey) Wise
I upped the Sig', bust ya lid, nothin' lives
I got many bodies with this machine, Honey, I Shrunk The Kids
I ain't finna play, n*ggas keep throwin' shots back and forth, 'til one ricochet
Better try to get away, before I draw on you and leave your skull filled (Scofield) like Prison Break
You 'bout to get all the smoke
And take so many punches the fans yellin'
(Get off the ropes!)
Don't make me throw you on a shirt
You a SMACK killer? Smack killers, roll you in the dirt
Before you go into your verse, I got a box, you can go into it first
I give you the whole plot, early; spoiler alert
I'm on alert! My face covered, you can't tell who it is
n*ggas know, when that mass occur (Massacre) it's finna get messy in here
Grenade launch the stage, I bet he get killed
Blow the whole set up Boston; Derek Foreal
You n*ggas should kneel, cause hate it or not, I'm the motherf*ckin' king of the spot
Sorry 'Ms. Jackson', n*ggas can't stop my (reign) rain at the top
I'll hit Bigg K wit' a shot, gave that ginger L's (ales); not this Canadian pop
You better catch [?] straight, y'all gon' make me catch a case
Big ass FN 57 stretch you, this sh*t heavyweight
Billy Pistolz bet' not every play
But I won't even clip you, I'll just backhand Pistolz, like Kevin Gates
Aw f*ck, you all stuck, AR's bust
We get a green light when it smoke, my vape pen charged up
Dawg, what?
Ya dawg what? You kiddin', right?
We really Crippin', that mean sh*t'll go left, we ain't livin' right
But this is life
So let you bring some problems to the hood, I'll leave you popped up and dash; check engine light
Aye, I ain't missin' sh*t tonight
I hit everything with these two .9's blazin'
Are you crazy? I hold the shot record, [?]
Bang him
"Spit yo' sh*t!"

[Round 3: Charron]
Aye they say Rum Nitty give you that sorta feel
Well I feel they sorta down playin' Corey's skill
He said they gon' "take so many punches they'll scream 'get off the ropes'", that's more than real
'Til I do a rope a dope and I'll leave (Ali) ya with a Foreman Grill
Every Rum verse is the same to me
You think Cornell would have multiple subjects, no angles/schemes
Just gun line after gun line uncreatively
You're from Arizona, you should have it covered from A to Z
Break him down, f*ck if he acts tougher, none of your schemes have structure
I talk to you while I punch like the Diaz Brothers
It's just name flip after name flip every line's about guns
Nothing's more intimidating than a guy who does puns
Conceited, Heartless, did this in '09 before Rum
Funny you're from Phoenix and stole your whole style from The Suns (S.O.N.S.)
Let me guess, you went light on me today, don't matter the league I'll lead the way
Charron's the most consistent, that's what people say
I always give you a little somethin' somethin', it's in my DNA
See it's Charron versus another SMACK rapper
Nah they got it ass backwards
You ain't a SMACK rapper, you're a KOTD backstabber
You and Danny was GZ, KOTD released it quick
They gave you Magic and O-Red, you seem legit
'Til you signed exclusive with SMACK, turned your back on this league and dipped
You wanna be the Gun Bar King like Tay but never squeezed the clip
Joe Dirt I'm exposing this fake Roc(k) as a piece of sh*t
Who would know Rum? If it wasn't for us, no one
They funded his whole run
You can't copy respect- but you can show some
Aye, let's play Swear To God, I want you to answer me
Swear To God that URL didn't block ya battle with Cassidy

[Rum Nitty]
Swear to God

A. Ward he's sinning. That's a lie right now
You swear to God?
Nah I swear to God because that was locked in, they nearly paid you
You broke your contract-
Don't put your hands up, everything I say is true
They had that contract, they had to renege you
Now it's Da Rebel vs. Cas', they had to erase you
How you the Gun Bar King when an Arsonal replaced you?
You snaked King Of The Dot for SMACK, thought it'd be a helluva look
Then went back, now your biggest match the URL wouldn't book?
All those guns, just to shoot yourself in the foot?
You traded Cassidy for a Charron battle?
Whoo, I'ma motherf*ckin' beast
They picked Ars' and you offered lower fees
It's in London, England you could've bodied bro with ease
How are you a Crip when you let the URL block you overseas (over C's)
But lately, I've seen my haters come out
They say I have bad set ups, that's something I straight up just doubt
They say, "All he does is current event bars", it's misleading I've been beastin'
Don't do current event bars kids
You may end up on MTV for six seasons
"He doesn't know what to do with his hands", that couldn't be more true
Everybody makes fun of how I rap, even Ward too
If I worked on my performance, I'd have more views
I'm just pointin' fingers, like Tsu Surf in the court room
SMACK come put a leash on your b*tch
Bought my house in cash, don't have a mortgage
You need a permission slip to become one of my corpses
Check my net worth, holler at me when you're rich
I'm Forbes list, you ain't even Norbes list
You're on his ignore list
See, goin' punch for punch ain't how I'm runnin' him this fade
I'm playin' defense, f*ckin' up his aim
Mike Tyson on NES, I'm usin' the right angles to beat the best puncher in the game
f*ckin' Small Blart, you gon' rap 'bout what?
You've been the Gun Bar King for years, ain't pulled your MAC out once
I did Twork dirty, he had to act out stuff
I've been outbarring Rum all night, I'm blackout drunk!

[Round 3: Rum Nitty]
Aye, are you thinkin' you 'bout to get this win tonight?
The only way you walkin' out this event alive, if I allow you
Turn up the volume
Somethin' loud shoot
Hittin' everything around you
Big sh*t for real
I lick wit' (liquid) the steel, it's what it all boils down to
You ain't got no piece please stop it
He weak, need to retreat 'fore we squeeze on him
If he keep talkin', two from the .9
Stomach shots, they brewin' (Bruin) inside; TD Garden
I won't stall him
It's the biggest clip that I show up to your apartment wit'
Takin' letters off the complex, since they say I'm too intricate
Silencer on the little fifth


Silencer on the little fifth, keep bringin' it up like I can't forget the sh*t
And you ain't never gonna hear the end of it
Aye, they say, "You better not play with Charron. You better go in
Every line. Gun bars. Let 'em fly. Better die
If you had me losin' to this b*tch you was tellin' lies
I won't let it slide
Y'all gon' make me steel (steal) a n*gga in Boston like Celtic Pride
Two Berettas gonna squeeze
I-I-I'll kill a man, I'm close to the edge with these b*tches, Thelma & Louise
You n*ggas is hoes, gettin' exposed
Let a n*gga go all in ya pockets, get hit wit' the pole
Rob you for all the sh*t that you hold
Everything in ya Possession? You better raise up off it, like Emily Rose
I'll fire at your tee (T), Antichrist
Bringin' sticks was my intent (in tent); camping site
I shoot it at an angle, I don't clap it right
I'm flashin' to the side, like hazard lights
Try you get hit, I don't play no games, I'm sideline on a bench
Slide wit' the stick, .9 finna lift
Gun up, I'll run up and air; bicycle kick
Slide by the crib like "Somebody gettin' buried now."
If I pull up airin', like a furniture truck, this whole section'll (sectional) get carried out
Catch a round, whole S50, dome shot
The face on ya man, cave, there ain't no b*tch in me
You can't keep it real yourself
n*gga (suicide or I'll do the job, you decide, kill yourself!)

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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